


Firewhiskey and Dragonbreath Shots

by Flaming_Quilltips



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M, Humor, Teen Romance, Young Love, young adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:49:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7217635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flaming_Quilltips/pseuds/Flaming_Quilltips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div>
  <p><br/><img/><br/><em>2nd Place </em>in Alexis Black's Smut*tastic Challenge || <em>Fantabulous Banner by atë! @ TDA!!</em></p>
  <p>
    <em>“You’re a prat, Potter."</em>
    <br/>
    <em>“You’re a pain, Evans.” </em>
    <br/>
    <em>His eyes darkened as he leaned forward, closing the gap between their lips. </em>
  </p>
  <p>Because, somethings can never be undone. *Mature Content*</p>
</div><hr/>
            </blockquote>





	Firewhiskey and Dragonbreath Shots

_December 27th, 1976 - Sixth Year_

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was teeming with people when Lily Evans apparated right into it. After the day she had had, only alcohol would set her right. Looking forward to some solitary drinking, she settled comfortably on a wooden bar stool. 

“Lily Evans! Funny seeing you here!” Surprise was evident in Sirius Black’s hearty voice, as he leaned across the counter from the serving side, a rag over his shoulder, and a bottle of Firewhiskey in hand. 

Apparently, her fortune was short lived. She rolled her eyes obviously, but he was unfazed.

“What’s that on your face? Wait, that’s just your nose!” he guffawed.

“Sod off, Sirius!” she snapped.  

“Such language doesn’t become of a lady,” he chuckled.

“Such cockiness doesn’t become of a gentleman,” she retorted as he took a sip from the bottle in hand. 

“Ahh, but I never did claim to be one,” he smirked.

“I’m not in the mood,” she exhaled irritably. He pointed his wand towards the cabinet, and drinks started mixing themselves. “What are you doing behind the counter?” she asked, curiously. 

“I work here now. At least for the holidays, till school begins!”

“Since when?” she asked in surprise. The drink that had mixed itself behind Sirius now glided over to him. 

“Since my parents kicked me out and I moved in with the Potters,” he replied lightly, plucking the glass from mid-air. She noticed the smug look had slightly waned as he turned around to hand the drink to an older woman, who was leaning forward rather provocatively. He flashed a smile and winked at her, pocketing the generous tip she left behind. 

“What can I get you, Ma’am?” he turned all his charm on her.

“If you think for one moment that I’m going to accept a drink from _you_ -” she started severely, but a smile tugged at her lips. She couldn't really be mad at Sirius.

“Hey, I’m just trying to earn an honest living,” he protested, widening his eyes innocently.

“Yeah, right!” An innocent Sirius was as probable as a flying kneazle. He continued to look at her questioningly, and she sighed. She really needed a drink. “Fine, just a Firewhiskey,” she conceded. “And keep the cork on!” It was probably safer to uncork it herself. 

He rolled his eyes and reached out into the cabinet behind him. “So, what brings you here in the middle of Christmas vacation?” he asked conversationally, holding on to the bottle. . 

“Just blowing off some steam,” she shrugged, reaching out for it. 

“Alone?” he raised his eyebrows, yanking it out of her reach.

“Who are you, my mother?” she snapped at him irately. She was starting to wish she had never come. All she wanted was to let a couple of drinks flow through her blood and calm the nerves that Petunia and her walrus of a fiance had set off. 

“Well, I shouldn’t really be serving you that, you know. You're not seventeen yet,” he raised his eyebrows. “If Tom knew-”

“Don’t pretend you’re such a goody-goody!” 

“If you want this, you’ve got to give me a good reason,” he grinned obnoxiously. 

“Piss off, Sirius,” she snapped angrily. 

He made to turn away, but left the bottle standing. her fingers closed around the cool glass and sighed. It wasn’t his fault, he was just being… Sirius. 

“It’s my sister,” she started. He looked at her, but she stared at the bottle in her hand, watching the condensed droplets slide down. “She hates me… and today her fiance came to meet the family. She didn’t want me there at all.” Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she hastily blinked them away. “Mum… Mum forced her to let me come… but,” she sighed, “let’s just say it was a difficult evening.”

She raised her eyes to look at him, expecting to see mockery but was pleasantly surprised to be greeted with a look of sympathy, and something more; understanding. He reached out under the counter, his hand resurfacing with a brown bottle. He placed it in front of her, tugging the Firewhiskey out of her hand

“Drink up,” he said in reply, nodding towards the brown bottle. “It’s good stuff. Better than the one in your hand.”

She raised her eyebrows skeptically. 

“It’s fine,” he assured, reading her mind. “I was actually going to fetch it for-”

“Fancy seeing you here, Evans!” James Potter’s voice boomed from behind her.

She groaned. “Not you!” Though they had become sort of friends over the last few months, she still didn’t want him and his smugness around just then.

“Why, one would think you weren’t happy to see me,” he grinned insolently, taking the seat next to her. “And that was my drink.” He grabbed the bottle Sirius had set in front of Lily and tipped it into his mouth, exhaling contentedly as he swallowed. His black shirt fell slightly open as he slouched on his elbow casually. James Potter might be irritating, but there was no denying what years of Quidditch had done to him. 

“Do you mind?” she said pointedly, trying not to stare at his chest. 

“Not at all,” he shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “So, what brings you here, in the middle of vacation?” 

“Why shouldn’t I be here?” she grunted, her earlier irritation having returned in full glory, and then some. This was not how she had planned her night would go. 

“It’s a long way from where you live,” he pointed out. Before she could respond -

“ _Yohoo_! Jaaames!”

The sickly sweet voice belonged to a blonde waving from the far end of the bar. She puckered her lips into a pout, beckoning James. Lily glanced at James, and he raised his chin in a I’ll-be-right-there gesture.

“I’d love to chat Evans, but… you know…” he tilted his head suggestively towards the blonde and took off as suddenly as he had arrived, taking the bottle with him. Lily’s eyes followed him as he joined the unknown blonde, who seemed to be eyeing her nastily. 

“Lucky bastard,” said Sirius. She tore her eyes away from the scene, feeling decidedly lower than she had when she had come in. “She looks like she could be into some kinky stuff.” 

“Hope she hexes his balls off,” she muttered rather viciously, grabbing the Firewhiskey from Sirius’ hand and taking a large sip.

“From what I hear, Prongs likes it rough,” he commented, winking at her. She made a disgusted face and glanced over to where James was sitting with the blonde. She had pulled him so close that she was almost sitting on her lap. One hand was around his shoulder, the other under the table (Lily could only imagine what it was up to) and her tongue seemed to be in his ear. Lily’s stomach twisted unpleasantly when she saw James lean in and whisper something in the slag’s ear that made her throw her head back and laugh, thrusting her chest forward. Lily’s eyes narrowed as his eyes dipped to her ample cleavage. She looked down at her own unflattering floral top. 

“You’ve got nice boobs too,” drawled Sirius, a knowing grin on his face.

“Stop staring at my breasts and fill me some shots,” she replied dryly, crossing her hands over her chest, and turning her back to James determinedly. “None of those weak lemon flavored things. I want the hardcore ones!” she called as Sirius turned to oblige. 

Just as Lily downed a shot, she heard that high pitched laughter of the blond once more. As the alcohol slid down her throat, she found herself unable to refrain from looking, despite knowing full well the havoc that would play on her insides. The slag had completely placed herself on James’ lap feeding him some grapes. She felt nauseous.

“Can’t you tell them off or something? On grounds of indecent behavior?” she asked, signalling to Sirius to pour her another shot. 

He obliged. “Why don’t you, if it bothers you so much,” he replied lightly, “as I recall, you have no problem telling Prongs off!”

“That was over a year ago. We’re friends now.” 

_Nothing more._ She didn’t say it out loud but the words seemed to reverberate in her head and hang in the air. She toyed with the glass in her hand. It had been easier to become friends with James Potter once he had stopped asking her out, and turning every conversation into a flirting opportunity. He still did that occasionally, but more to piss her off  than anything else. He was certainly making it perfectly clear he was over his little crush. 

“Do I detect some remorse there, Evans?” Sirius raised an eyebrows, wiping a wine bottle for an old bearded wizard.

“As if,” she scoffed. 

Sirius set down the rag he was holding and leaned on his elbows so that he was at eye level with Lily and she was forced to look at him. “You’re lying,” he said simply. 

“Get lost,” she muttered, her face growing hot much to her dismay. He straightened up with haughty smugness. 

“Oi, Padfoot!”

Lily felt him lean up the counter beside her before she saw him. A strong whiff of his cologne reached her, filling her with a kind of intoxication that had nothing to do with alcohol. A couple more buttons had come undone on his shirt, and his sleeves rolled up. His arms were oddly fascinating, and she found herself looking at the scar that marred his fit triceps. She didn’t quite hear what was being said between the two of them, and only registered when James occupied the seat he had previously vacated. 

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a Dragonbreath Shots kind of bird… Pixie Shots maybe,” he addressed her conversationally. 

“Desperate times, Potter,” she deadpanned in response, tilting her head back to unnecessarily drown the dregs of her drink. There were hardly a couple of drops in there, but she had to do something to quell that queasy feeling at the pit of her stomach. 

“Fight with Mary again?” James raised his eyebrow questioningly. 

“Not this time,” she mumbled. Her earlier irritation with him was beginning to ebb away. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe his presence didn’t irritate her as much since they had become sort-of friends over the past few months. He ran his fingers, messing up his hair further. Funny how that didn’t seem to bother her much now. 

It was definitely the alcohol. 

“Evans. Evans?  _Lily_!” 

Lily realized Sirius was addressing her.

“If you could stop ogling at Prongs long enough-” She glared mutinously at him. His smirk widened as he continued, “- to tell me if you want anything else.”

“No, thank you,” she gritted through her teeth, knowing perfectly well that Sirius had only come over to call James’ attention to the fact that she had been staring. He gave James an obvious wink, turned to tend to a gaggle of sloshed girls squealing out for him. 

“Wipe that look off your face, Potter. I wasn’t ogling at you,” she said dryly, without looking at him and taking a sip from the Firewhiskey she had abandoned earlier for the shots.

“I never believed for a second that you did,” he replied smoothly, mirroring her movements. They sat side by side in silence for a couple of minutes. The radio on the counter crackled, nondescript voices emanating from it. James flicked his wand towards it, increasing the volume.

_… a popular number ‘Heating up my Kettle’ by Penelope Songbird._

__It was a particularly racy number about a woman getting turned on by the man she was in love with. Lily’s face grew hot as the implications of the words hit her.

“You never did say why you came alone,” James interrupted her auditory reverie.

“It’s been a long day, Potter,” she sighed, turning the bottle in her hand, tugging at the label absently.  

“I’m surprised Prescott isn’t here with you. Aren’t you both joined at the lips?” he asked.

“I think you mean hip,” she pointed out dryly as he shook his head in denial. “We broke up. Before the year ended.”

“Oh.” For some reason James looked quite pleased. “Told you he was a git!” he said obnoxiously, gulping down half the bottle in his hand.

“That’s what you say about anyone I go out with,” she dismissed, toying with the piece of label she had torn out.

“What can I say, your choices have been terrible!”

“And who is a good choice, according to you? Yourself?” she scoffed, turning to him, her eyebrows arched.

“Of course,” he replied promptly. “But you missed your chance, Evans!” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, you were right, we wouldn’t have worked out. We’re too… different!” he said seriously, not looking at her.

“Back up there, Potter,” she said sitting up straight, a smirk playing around her lips. “Did I just hear you say _I was right_?”

His eyes widened in mock horror. “Blimey, this brand of Firewhiskey is really strong stuff!”

She shook her head, smiling triumphantly. “No excuses.” 

“I like to give credit where it’s due,” he conceded, haughtily.

“Mighty gracious of you,” she said sarcastically. After a slightly awkward pause - “You really think I was right?” she asked seriously.

He regarded her for a moment, his hazel eyes fixing themselves upon her green ones before he opened his mouth to answer. “There came a time when I had to stop, and realize it was not going to happen. Your arguments made sense. And I got over you.”

“Just like that?” she whispered, feeling like a Dementor had just entered the pub.

He grinned with such alacrity that startled her. “Just like that. And James Potter, the Bird Catcher was reborn,” he boasted, changing the mood considerably.

“Speaking of, isn’t your girlfriend going to miss you?” she shot at him before she could help herself. 

“She wasn’t my type,” he shrugged.

“That didn’t seem to stop you sometime back.” 

“I don’t go for birds who have boyfriends,” he grinned.

“So now James Potter lives by a code?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“James Potter writes his own code,” he replied cockily. 

“WHO THE RUDDY HELL IS JAMES SODDING POTTER?” 

Lily almost choked on her drink when the loud gruff voice roared across the bar. All conversations halted instantly, and every alarmed face turned to the owner of the voice - a tall, stocky bloke, in his early twenties, wearing an expensive jacket made of Dragon hide. A booming silence descended on the pub - except for a loud slurping noise coming from Lily’s right. James Potter looked around mildly at those who were staring at him. He turned his face unconcernedly at the tall bloke who was fuming in his direction (apparently suspecting he was looking at the object of his rage).

“I have no idea,” James said mildly. “I'm James _Henry_ Potter. I'm pretty sure my grandfather was not called _Sodding_.”

The bloke growled low in his throat as he advanced towards James in fast, angry strides. Lily got up quickly taking a step closer to James and Sirius moved to stand right behind him. James, however, continued to be unfazed, finishing his drink by the time the man, considerably taller than he was, lifted him off the ground by his collar.

“Were you the one snogging my girlfriend?” he demanded, shaking him causing his glasses to slide down his nose considerably. 

“The fit blonde by the owl’s cage? If I recall, she seemed pretty into it, yeah?” James spoke in the same conversational tone. 

Lily saw the man’s eyes turn red as he lifted James higher, and hurtled him back into the counter. His glasses flew past Sirius as his face collided with a painful thud. The man grabbed James by the back of his shirt and turned him around, drawing back his fist, ready to punch him. 

“Where’s your wand? Or are you a squib?” taunted James. Lily groaned and winced as his fist advanced, the crunching sound indicating it had found its mark. The now bloody fist was withdrawn, and blood was trickling out of James’ nose. His eyes were bright, but he still refused to wipe that look off his face. The man raised his fist to strike once more, and Sirius raised his wand to intervene but Lily was quicker. Her state of drunkenness produced only a mild version of Shield Charm, which, however, was sufficient to cause the man to release him and stumble slightly backward. Lily caught James and steadied him.

The man turned his incensed eyes on her. His lip curling mockingly as he looked her up and down. “You’d stay out of this, if you know what’s good for you!” 

“You’d leave right now, if _you_ know what’s good for _you_ ,” she shot back, raising her wand threateningly. James straightened his shirt, looking extremely unapologetic and retrieving his glasses.

“Am I supposed to be scared?” he scoffed. “I’ve had my grandmother cast a better Shield Charm than this,” he sneered.

Something snapped in Lily’s head. The weight of the whole day - Petunia, Vernon, James, the blonde - everything came crashing down as she took a step closer to the man towering over her. He continued to look derisively at her.

“Yeah? Has she ever done this to you?” 

And Lily swung the bottle of _Ogden's Firewhiskey_ in her hand, and brought it crashing down the man’s head. It broke into a hundred pieces, and he staggered back, clutching his head. There was an outbreak of confusion - people gasping and bending over the man - and for a moment the attention was not on her.

“Lily, quick, here!” a voice said urgently in her ear. 

James had pulled out his invisibility cloak and threw it over her head, placing an arm around her shoulder as he guided her away. Sirius moved in a fluid motion, opening the door behind the counter. They slipped out just in time to hear Tom the barman roar in outrage.

They hurried along the small path and turned around the bend to the back alley. James pulled the cloak off them, and Lily leaned back on the wall, breathing heavily. Their eyes met and simultaneously they burst out laughing. At every pause Lily thought she was going to stop, the sound of James’ laughter set her off again. 

“I wouldn’t have believed it of you, Evans,” said James finally after they had caught their breath. 

“I still can’t believe I did that,” she replied grinning, her voice hoarse from laughing. She leaned her head back against the brick, taking in a deep breath and exhaling. James stood in front of her, hands in pocket and his messy hair falling onto his forehead. 

“What?” she asked, unnerved by the way he was looking at her.

“You never cease to amaze me,” he replied laughingly. 

“I blame you,” she replied, bringing her finger to poke his chest with each word. “You had to snog the bird with the big boyfriend, didn’t you?”

He caught her finger, taking a step closer unconsciously. “Of course!”

“You’re a prat!” she laughed. 

“You’re a prick!” he retorted in the same tone. 

She laughed once again, the alcohol in her system having made her all heady. His eyes were fixed on her face, as the smile slid away slowly. She found herself falling into the depths of his hazel eyes.

“It wasn’t just like that,” he said suddenly, his voice much deeper. 

“What?” she asked, confused.

“My getting over you,” he explained. “It wasn’t ‘just like that’. It was a long, painful process.”

She wasn’t smiling anymore. Her heart was doing things she had only read of in cheesy romance novels. “I’m really sorry.” She meant it. “But, it’s done now, isn’t it? You’re over me, yeah?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he said matching her tone. “I’m over you now.” He paused. “Until the next time I see you smile. And then, I have to get over you all over again.”

Her mouth was suddenly dry, her heart hammered against her chest. Her finger was still enclosed in his palm, and her hand acted of its own accord, moving to lace her fingers through his. She took one step towards him narrowing the distance between them, and looked up at him.

“You’re a prat, Potter,” she said softly. 

“You’re a prick, Evans,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and his eyes darkened as he leaned forward, closing the gap between their lips. 

Maybe it was because she had been wondering for a while now what it would feel like; Maybe it was because she had actually grown to like him; Maybe it was because of all the alcohol coursing through her veins; Maybe it was just because it was James Sodding Potter, Hogwarts’ Snogmaster: But the sheer intensity of the kiss weakened her, causing her knees to buckle momentarily. James gently pushed her back to lean against the wall as his lips moved against hers. She ran her hands up his arms and buried them in his hair, caressing the nape of his neck as she lightly nipped at his lower lip. His hands stilled at her hip as he groaned deep in his throat. Smiling against his lips, she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, pulling his neck closer with one hand, while moving the other down to his explore his chest. One of his hands slipped lower to rest just below the hip, on the curve of her back, the other suddenly tightened on her waist. 

“Evans,” he breathed against her lips, “stop.” He stiffened, resting his forehead against hers, his breath coming out in rasps. Still reeling from the kiss, she paid no heed to his words, bringing her hands to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt. “Evans,” he repeated, painfully pleading, stilling her hands with his. 

She kissed his chin softly, and trailed her lips up his jaw, to the spot just below his ear. “Do you _really_ want to stop, Potter?” she whispered huskily, feeling him shiver as her hot breath tickled his ears and her words registered. 

He groaned. “You’re playing with fire, Evans,” he said hoarsely, his eyes a pooling brown and glistening with golden anticipation as they looked into hers.

“It’s a good thing I’m a witch then,” she replied, raising her eyebrows in invitation, her hands traveling to rest on the buckle of his jeans, pulling him closer. His eyes darkened once again as he gave into the heat of the moment and his lips came crashing down on hers. Her head swam with a million emotions as he laced his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back. He hissed into her mouth as her fingers traced the taut skin on his chest, grazing lightly it with her nails. His lips traveled down her neck, causing her breath to hitch when they teased a particularly sensitive spot. He took his time there, his mouth stirring up a volley of sensations she didn’t know she was capable of feeling. She pulled at his shirt, casting it aside, and returning her hands to his hard abs. 

His hand was resting on her bare waist, inching upwards, causing her flesh to erupt in goosebumps and tingle with anticipation as he cupped the mound of flesh over her bra. His ministrations had glided from her neck down to the teasing valley of curves her low neckline offered him. His hands explored her chest, tauntingly toying with her, grazing his fingers tantalizingly over the spots that elicited a ragged breath, a groan and an occasional hiss. A cold blast of air stung her hot skin, and she realized she was divested off her shirt. She sighed as his lips returned to her chest, torturing all the right spots, drawing out his name from her lips. She drew him closer to her, hooking a leg around his waist and rolling her hips against his. He shuddered against her, sliding his hand up her thigh, moving closer and closer to where she needed him to be.

Every speck of rational thought flew from her head as their movements intensified, and all she was left with were her five senses,. She could see his fingers disappear under her skirt; smell the combination of cologne on his skin, alcohol on his breath feeding her intoxication like honey to a bear; hear his soft groans and ragged breath reverberate through her ears, going to her head like her first Dragonbreath Shot; taste his last drink on her raw, tingling lips; and feel every part of her skin burn like fire and sting like ice simultaneously.

Her eyes slid shut as she let the tactile sensations take over her mind and body; her hands moving of their own accord, pulling down his jeans as his hands left a trail of goosebumps on every inch of her skin.

Their breaths grew erratic as they moved closer. More intimate than they had ever been. Whispers of names followed by moans filled the air as passion fueled urgency, the five senses colliding and merging into one until all she was aware of was the spiraling high that James Sodding Potter was bringing her to.

* * *

A flustered silence followed as they disentangled, gathering their clothes. Lily carefully avoided his eyes, her face flushed for more reasons than one. She was still struggling to catch her breath, her skin tingling with the ghost of his last touch, simulatneously satieted and yearning for more.

“So, is that a yes to Hogsmeade next week?” James broke the silence conversationally, buttoning his shirt up. 

Lily pulled her top down her head. “Oh, I don’t know, Potter,” she replied, her cheeks growing hot. 

James ran his fingers through his hair, trying to comb it. “We’re back to _Potter_ , are we?” He raised an eyebrow. “You seemed pretty comfortable with _James_ a few minutes back,” he said with a smug look. 

Lily fluffed out her hair, searching the ground for her hairpin. “Listen,” she said hesitantly, “you don’t have to feel obliged to ask me out. This was just a heat of the moment thing, yeah?”

He looked at her strangely, his hands stilling in the middle of stuffing his shirt into his jeans. “Obliged?” He frowned slightly.

“Yeah,” she said busily, still looking for her hairpin. “I know you’re over me… and we’re slightly drunk right now.” She turned to face him, her hands fingering the hem of her shirt. “It’s alright, really.” She couldn’t look at him at length. A part of her brain was screaming its protest at her words while the other part was telling her this was for the best.

James took a step forward. “Lily…” She had never heard his voice like that before. “Are you saying this happened only because… because we’re… we’re… drunk?”

She forced herself to look up at him. The expression on his face was unreadable. “Well,” she started slowly, struggling to put her thoughts into words. “Well… there is some… attraction… undeniably…”

“Attraction?” He looked like he had the wind knocked out of him. 

“Yeah,” she ploughed on, with more conviction. “You said it yourself, you’re over me… and I’ve never-” her voice caught in her throat. She almost didn’t want to finish that sentence. 

“Lily...” He took one step forward, the night breeze tugging at his dishevelled shirt, making it all the more difficult for her to remember her points. She shivered at the intensity in his voice. “I-”

“Potter, stop,” she cut in, clenching her shaking fingers to steady them. “Don’t say something we both know you will regret later.” He looked at her in surprise. She sighed. “Things between us… they’ve always been… complicated, yeah? You wanted me only because I kept saying no. You know as well as I do, Potter, that it was the chase, the pursuit that excited you. Not me.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, but now that she had started, she wasn’t able to stop. Everything on her mind came gushing out. “Once you got bored, you moved on. A different girl every week, sometimes even two. You seek change, excitement. You'll be miserable with me.”

Something flashed in his eyes. “And you?” His strange voice lowered to a whisper. 

She looked up at him, and she could feel her heart tearing as she uttered her next words. “I'll be miserable with you too.”

Something hardened in his face as she spoke those words. “I hear you, Evans. Loud and clear,” he said heartily. She looked at him sharply, surprised at the sudden change in his tone. His face was wiped of all emotion it had displayed earlier, and replaced with his charactersitic cock-sure expression. 

“Uhm… so… we’re okay?” she asked, unnerved by his demeanor.

He grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “As ever.”

“Right… Er - thanks for… uhm…” she blushed, not knowing what to say. 

“Right. No problem.” In the same unnerving hearty voice. “We should do it another time… maybe in a more comfortable place.” He winked at her suggestively, causing her to roll her eyes, more out of habit than anything. “Well then..." He shrugged, hands on his hips, looking around casually, but his expression oddly taut. "See you around, yeah?” He nodded, tracing his steps down the back alley, back to the Leaky Cauldron. 

“Yeah,” Lily said softly, watching him retreat, her heart sinking further with each step he took away from her. She didn’t know what she felt for James Potter. She knew him much too well to risk finding out how he really felt about her. If it turned out she was right, she didn’t think she could handle it. 

Because, at the end of the day, James Sodding Potter, was one hell of a person, and that would make getting over him next to impossible.  
****

* * *

A/N: Hello dearest readers! If you've made it till here, virtual cookies from me. I wrote this for the Smut*tastic Challenge, and it's the first time I've ever written something like this *embarassed-blush*. 

**The prompts I chose were 'Firewhiskey' and 'Back Alley' which set off a plot bunny that begged to be penned down. Let me know what you think *points to the little grey box below***

_Thanks to Penelope Inkwell for inspiring Dragonbreath Shots, and Claire Evergreen for your wonderful feedback and Tanya (WriteYourHeartOut) for ensuring it's all within the ToS_


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